


grilled cheese

by omphale23



Category: due South
Genre: Challenge fic, Community: stop_drop_porn, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-14
Updated: 2010-03-14
Packaged: 2017-10-07 23:56:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/70578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/omphale23/pseuds/omphale23
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They're in the kitchen and Ray is trying really hard to mention the whole fire alarm issue to Fraser, who is not cooperating <i>at all</i>, and Ray figures out what the deal is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	grilled cheese

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [](http://jamethiel-bane.livejournal.com/profile)[**jamethiel_bane**](http://jamethiel-bane.livejournal.com/) for some really useful advice, and to [](http://slidellra.livejournal.com/profile)[**slidellra**](http://slidellra.livejournal.com/) for beta and for providing a much better idea for the last paragraph. Originally posted for **stop_drop_porn**

Fraser's got this thing. A fixation or fetish or some other word that starts with F and means he's acting stranger than usual. At least Ray thinks he does, thinks Fraser's got one of those things because lately, whenever they've been hanging out, Ray can't seem to keep his shirt on.

At first he thinks Fraser is just really horny, which makes sense. Ray's horny. Ray wants Fraser to jump him every time they're in the same room, so he's not complaining when Fraser starts stripping him as soon as they walk in the door.

But then he stops with Ray half-dressed and panting up against the wall or the door or the ugly chair he really needs to throw out. Just walks away, folding Ray's t-shirt or whatever, and they go on with making dinner and sitting on the couch and watching TV. Or, Ray watches TV. Fraser watches Ray, which is hot but a little weird, right? And Fraser doesn't make a move.

Well, sometimes he does, but there are at least three nights that Ray can think of this week where he didn't, including tonight. Fraser let him walk around for an hour, shivering a little because the heat doesn't work that great when it's windy. Then he changed his mind and they set off the fire alarm because Fraser left the grilled cheese in the pan while he pinned Ray against the counter and sucked him off. Slowly. With teeth, which should be scary but isn't, as long as the guy doing it is trustworthy.

Fraser is _all over_ trustworthy. Also, he's got a tongue that just won't quit. It's great.

Anyway. They're in the kitchen and Ray is trying really hard to mention the whole fire alarm issue to Fraser, who is not cooperating _at all_, and Ray figures out what the deal is. Well, no. Not right at that moment. At the time, he pulls on Fraser's hair and mutters something about the neighbors, and Fraser kneels back, gets to his feet (not the best result, but that's what Ray gets for being an adult about things like smoke and kitchen equipment) and picks up a jar of onion powder. He doesn't even look, just pitches it at the ceiling and the noise stops. The alarm beeps once more and rattles as it hits the floor.

The quiet is nice. Quiet is good because Fraser's licking the side of his neck and Ray really wants to be able to pay attention to that, wants to be able to remember this later, the way that Fraser's tongue is doing some really cool things to the tendons in his shoulder, and the way his hands are running down Ray's arms until his fingers are wrapped around Ray's wrists and pushing them behind Ray's back to rest against the counter.

That's also good, because the edge of the counter is sharp and not the most comfortable place in the world for his back if he's going to be here for a while. But Ray's being responsible, so he reaches out to turn off the stove. After he gets the burner off, Fraser grabs his hand and flattens it down on the counter. He starts to pull away, but Fraser's stronger than he looks, and he just tightens his grip on Ray and growls a little. Whatever. Ray's flexible. He looks like an idiot standing this way, but he's an idiot who's getting some serious attention from Fraser's other hand, so he's not complaining. He pulls the other hand out from behind his back and shifts a little, leaning back on his arms and biting his lip. Fraser works his away around, licking his way over Ray's collarbone.

Only (and it's a little odd, and this is why Ray remembers it later, and how he figures out what Fraser's problem is) instead of the meandering kisses down over his ribs and across his stomach and then back to the main event, Fraser pulls away and leans over, nibbling up the inside of his arm and licking the inside of his elbow and settling, finally, with his lips over Ray's tattoo.

The one on his shoulder. Not the other one, because Ray's still sort of wearing his pants.

Fraser's just leaning there, holding Ray up against the counter and breathing heavy and not really kissing Ray's shoulder so much as he's running his tongue across the lines.

It feels funny. Ray's puzzling it out but at the same time he's thinking about that same tongue running across the piece inked on his hip and really wants to move things along. He shifts and lets his pants drop onto the floor, and that does it, because Fraser slides his fingers around Ray's hip and runs them over the tattoo a couple of times, grunts as he drops to his knees, and starts trying his new trick out on Ray's hipbone (and yeah, it's a girly place for it, but there aren't that many places that the guys at work won't see at some point other than his ass, and Ray's not even going to think about what the reaction to getting a tattoo on his ass would have been down at Dixon's shop). Ray does the hair-pulling thing again, this time managing to convince Fraser that they'd been interrupted and it'd be a good idea to finish what he started. Fraser takes his time, but eventually he starts running his tongue over the head of Ray's dick and lets it slide inside his lips, using one hand to hold Ray still and the other to go back to sliding his fingertips over the ink that Ray's suddenly really glad he made the stupid decision to get.

Fraser's really good at sucking dick. If there were an Olympics for cocksucking, he'd win some sort of super-gold medal. Just the right amount of pressure, and none of that weird humming that Stella'd tried a few times. And he's enthusiastic, which counts for a lot. It doesn't take long before Ray's gripping the counter, trying not to grab Fraser's head and shove himself deeper, and right after that he's not sure what happens outside of the coming hard into Fraser's mouth. He kinda blanks out from the feeling of Fraser's hand rubbing back and forth over his skin combined with the wet hot stroking of Fraser's tongue, but when he opens his eyes Fraser's wiping his lips and grinning up at him.

They've still got to eat dinner, and Fraser swears he'd good to go, so they make soup and turn in early. It isn't until Ray's drifting off, having made sure that his own blowjob efforts are competitive (if not quite up to Fraser's natural talent) that it clicks in his head.

"Hey, Frase?"

Fraser mumbles something that could be _go ahead_. Or it could be _go to hell_.

"You got a thing for tattoos?" He runs his thumb over Fraser's lips, making sure he's still awake.

Fraser swats at him and turns over. "Why?"

"Just wondering. You should have one, have a tattoo of your own. Maybe one of those ones that means 'I jump out windows' in Inuit or something." Fraser's not cooperating. He's pulled a pillow over his head and squirmed up next to Ray.

Ray tries to lay back and fall asleep, but he's not tired anymore. He's trying to keep from picturing Fraser laid out on the bench, gripping Ray's hand and wincing while Dixon runs the needles over his skin. It's not working, so Ray turns on his side and pulls down the sheet. He spends a long time watching Fraser sleep, tracing imaginary patterns with his fingers over Fraser's spine, red and blue and green swirling over the pale skin of his back.


End file.
